


Hand-Me-Down

by Lovedmoviesb



Series: The Famous Rick Grimes [15]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Baseball Rick, Daddy Rick, F/M, Future Fic, Grimes Family Fluff, Mama Michonne, Richonne - Freeform, The Famous Rick Grimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25474321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedmoviesb/pseuds/Lovedmoviesb
Summary: A family heirloom passes hands
Relationships: Judith Grimes & Michonne, Judith Grimes & Rick Grimes, Rick Grimes/Michonne
Series: The Famous Rick Grimes [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1502060
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Hand-Me-Down

"Dad!"

The cry echoed through the otherwise silent house, ricocheting off the walls. Inside their bedroom, Rick Grimes sighed against his wife's chest, sitting up just the slightest to look at her.

"You said when they were grown, they'd stop doing that," he mumbled.

Michonne only laughed, rubbing her fingers through his close-cropped hair. She dropped her hands, tugging at his salt and pepper beard.

"Well, she's _barely_ an adult," Michonne pointed out. "And RJ is still a teenager."

"Dad!" Judith's voice came again, louder still.

"We should have encouraged her to go east for college," Rick lamented. He braced his hands on either side of Michonne, pushing himself off.

Her giggles mounted. "Oh really?" she asked, skeptical. "So if your little girl had decided on Notre Dame instead of your alma mater-"

Rick scoffed. "She would never."

"Or joined Andre at _my_ alma mater," Michonne continued, "or followed Carl's lead and went to Atlanta..."

She reached over the bed, scooping up a pair of threadbare pajama pants. Rick traded her an overlarge Dodger's t-shirt. 

"You know I'd support her wherever she went," he pointed out, shoving his legs in and hastily drawing them up over his narrow waist.

"Well then," Michonne arched a brow, pulling the shirt over her head. "Better get started. You know what she's after."

"Yup," Rick crossed to the closet. "Good thing I know where it is."

He reached deftly up for a battered old shoe box, drawing it carefully down from the top shelf. He extracted a faded hat, weather-stained and broken in. The logo was more gray than white, and the formerly bright crimson fabric had long since gone pale and pastel. Still, Rick handled it as though it was made of porcelain and spun gold, lifting it for Michonne's inspection. She'd seen it dozens of times, on each of their children's heads through t-ball games, camping trips, and beach vacations. She had no idea how it survived the decades, but she was glad it had. 

Any response she could have mustered was lost in the loudest scream yet.

"DAD!"

A knock sounded on the door, followed in quick succession by Judith bursting in. She was flushed, her curly hair escaping its sloppy updo.

"It's the first day of practice, Dad-" she began, breathless. "I need-"

"I know," Rick grinned.

He walked towards her, lifting the hat as ceremoniously as though it were a crown. He pushed her wayward hair back, securing the baseball cap over it. Judith let out an audible sigh, the tension ebbing out of her wiry frame.

"Thanks," she smiled, throwing long arms around his neck.

Rick hugged her back, lifting her just the slightest.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked.

Judith shook her head. "I'll drive myself." She pulled the cap more snuggly over her head, pushing the bill up. "I'll see you and Mom after practice, ok?"

"We'll be here," Rick promised.

"Go get 'em, Trojan!" Michonne called to their daughter as she disappeared in a whirlwind of hugs and well-wishes.

Rick watched her go, looking for all the world like a forlorn puppy. He stared at the open door of the bedroom.

"Think she'll notice if I sneak in to watch?" he asked over his shoulder.

Michonne embraced him, leaning her chin on her husband. "Baby, you can't get anywhere near that school without drawing a crowd."

He sighed. "I just want to see-"

Michonne kissed his whiskered cheek. "You've seen her pitch almost every day since she threw her first ball at 2. She's going to be great. We'll see her play when games start."

Rick reached back for her, but his focus didn't shift from the sound of a car backing out of their driveway.

"You know," Michonne attempted to distract him. "I'm sure RJ wouldn't mind some time with his old man at the batting cages."

"You think?" Rick perked up, turning to look eagerly at her.

"Pick him up after school," Michonne suggested. "He'll be thrilled."

Rick nodded, kissing her hand. "Think we can get them all home this weekend?" he wondered aloud.

Michonne chuckled against his bare shoulder, pressing her lips against him. None of their boys strayed too far from California, always returning to the nest and the familiar comforts of their little team.

"If you cook, they'll be here." She let her hands drop to his waist, toying with the cotton band. "In the meantime, your wife wouldn't mind some attention."

Rick shut their bedroom door at once, turning to catch her in his arms. "There's probably some advantages to an empty house," he conceded, picking up where they'd left off.

"More than a few," Michonne agreed, tugging him back towards their bed.


End file.
